


DL 12

by bonebo



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fighting, M/M, Not super incest-y (i'm just as disappointed as u are), Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 08:25:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10081379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonebo/pseuds/bonebo
Summary: SHIMADACEST - WE WERE NEVER MEANT TO FIGHT ON OUR OWN





	

They fight.

Like cats and dogs--like unruly dragons--like _brothers_ , they fight. Half the time it’s over something too petty for either one of them to let go of, and half the time it’s real--it’s pulled hair and spat curses and bruises that linger days after, visible badges of guilt and shame that only start to fade after the apologies.

Genji is no stranger to fighting with Hanzo, to brawling and dodging blunted practice arrows--

But this is something else entirely.

This is an attack, plain and simple--this is footsteps that follow Genji from the bar, hands that grab him, bodies that crowd around as he’s forced into a back alley. He’s lost on principal, before the first punch is thrown; but then it is, and he’s knocked to the ground, surrounded by legs and bodies and held there while they dole out pain.

It’s a beating, more than a fight--unfair in every regard, and they taunt him as they rain down their blows, like they’re not happy with just breaking his body. Like they have to break his spirit, bruise his pride, too.

_“Spoiled Shimada bitch can’t even fight back!”_

_“Look at how weak he is--some dragon.”_

_“Your big brother isn’t here to save you, this time!”_

Genji accepts the abuse because he has to; because his arm was broken three kicks ago and he can barely breathe through the blood in his mouth. When the fighting stops, when the crowd around him pauses, he’s certain it’s because they’ve finally decided to kill him.

But no--the crowd starts to flee, footsteps stumbling on wet pavement, and the hand that touches Genji’s bruised cheek is soft, gentle enough to make him open his eyes. He can make out pale skin, a blurry mass of ink-dark hair--and Hanzo’s eyes, endless rage in their stormy depths.

“I-I’m...sorry,” Genji rasps, as he’s pulled gingerly into Hanzo’s lap; one broad hand, rough from years of mastering sword and bow, gently strokes over his cheek, smears the blood that leaks from his busted lip. Hanzo’s body shakes with his fury, but his voice is quiet, soft against the noise of retreating footsteps. 

“Do not apologize, brother.” Hanzo lays his hand over Genji’s eyes, and the warm darkness comes as a reprieve; Genji sighs out his relief through blood-flecked lips and relaxes back into Hanzo’s lap, against the warmth of Hanzo’s muscle.

“We were never meant to fight on our own,” Hanzo whispers, and Genji lets his own thudding heartbeat be lost in the unleashed dragons’ roar.


End file.
